No Time To Mourn
by ClusiveC
Summary: Ramirez and the elite Hunter unit have been sent to New York. The city is total chaos. Hell on earth. Buildings are on fire, homes have been destroyed, and innocent people have lost their lives. This is a dark time. The Rangers have to push the Russians out of New York, or die trying. Failure is not an option. And there is no time to mourn. Sequel to "The Rising Sun" that I did.


**Sequel to "The Rising Sun".**

**One Month Later. ****New York City.**

**_Who's to Judge..._  
**

Buildings as high as you could see, crumbling, burning, obliterated. Destruction at its finest. Places that were once littered with people, going about their lives. Those places were turned into a hell. It was almost like a doomsday scenario. No civilians were in sight, random pieces of paper were flying about, cars were abandoned... And Russians were everywhere. Like a swarm. It was as if New York was actually Moscow. Sporadic gunfire was a constant background noise. The city was a pure battle field. Only the strongest would survive here. This was the hard core.

Sgt. Foley was like an older brother to me. I looked up to him. We followed his orders with absolute loyalty. Our squad was more than a brother hood. We were like a bonded force of nature, going where the wind took us, cleaning up the city. Like we were peacekeepers or something. 2-1 was the premiere Hunter group. High powered, deadly, hyper lethal, incredibly efficient. Not only us, but the other squads in the Hunter unit as well. We were like heroes. In only a matter of about a month and a half, we'd gone from evacuating civilians in Virginia, to holding the line in Washington D.C., and now to pushing the Russians back out of New York.

From getting all the innocents out of the way. Then to establishing an effective defensive system. Then to building momentum on an offensive front. The war was starting to look a different way now. In the east, at least. California was still a hot spot. I'd finally gotten word from my brother, Jared. He'd been hit, but the docs patched him up, and now he was back out there fighting to save California. Those marines were tough. The homefront would be cleared in a short while. As soon as we get New York back to green, we'll be surrounding Virginia and staging a counter attack.

I was in the medical tent, helping out where help was needed. The lack of supplies forced us to lay the wounded down onto spare towels and rags that Hunter 2-2 looted from some stores. It was the best that we could do. We were undermanned, badly. I had a little medical experience, but I wasn't on Dunn's level. He was like some type of healing angel or something like that. He could stop the screams. He could save their lives. The best that I could do was stop bleeding and stop pain and patch guys up.

My hands were covered with blood that wasn't mine. Not only was I tending to military personnel, but also to stray civilians the we'd found while we were setting up our small outpost. I wrapped a bandage around the leg of an older man who looked as if he was in his 40's.

"Mh, shit it hurts." He groaned. He'd caught a piece of glass right below his knee. He would be limping for a long time, probably for the rest of his life. But he wouldn't die. Not today, at least.

"You'll be okay, just stay off of it for a while. Don't try to put too much pressure on it yet." I told him, and he listened. I hoped that he wouldn't have to limp for the rest of his life. I lifted him up from the ground, half carrying him, and walked him out of the tent.

We stumbled a few times, but I made sure that we didn't fall. I walked him over to a nearby tent where he could get some rest. We stepped inside, and there were several more innocent people in there, looking scared. I felt a slight bit of pity. We were in no shape to get these people out right now. I half - carried the guy over to an empty corner of the tent and sat him down gently. He grunted a little from the effort that it took.

"Is there anything you need, sir?" I asked him.

"No, but thanks." He said. He lifted his hand up, waiting for me to shake it. And I did. We shook hands. "What's your name?"

"I'm James. James Ramirez"

"Lieutenant Larry Walker, USMC retired, 23rd Marines battalion. I just got out a little over a year ago."

I thought for a moment.

"You said 23rd Marines?" I asked him. He nodded.

"That's right. 1st platoon, Fox company."

"You know a guy named Jared?"

"Jared?" A look of puzzlement crossed his face for a few seconds, as he thought back. "Oh! Jared Ramirez! He must be your brother, you two look alike. How's he doing?" Larry asked me. A smile spread across his face.

"He's out west. Took a few rounds not too long ago, but he'll be alright."

"Man! What're the chances? Your brother was a fine marine."

"Thank you, sir."

I told him that I had to go and whatnot. Things to do. He understood. I made a mental note to try and get a letter to Jared, telling him that I'd met one of his superiors. When I stepped out of that tent, I took a look around. There were tents set up everywhere. People were going around, back and forth, every direction. We needed to get this soup sorted out. I walked around the side of the tent, between two of them, hoping to catch a break, when I saw a young girl sitting by herself and crying. She was no older than 10. She sat on the ground, her legs balled up beneath her, and her arms covering her face. My first thought was to just turn and walk away. But instead, I walked over to her and then knelt down. I nudged her slightly on the shoulder.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked her. A few seconds later, she looked up at me. Her face was wet with tears and her eyes were big. She had black hair that was straggly and wild.

"I'm scared.." Her voice was small and innocent. This wasn't my kind of thing, tending to kids and stuff like that. But I had no choice. I looked around in all directions, but I didn't really see anyone.

"Where are your parents? Are they here?" It took a few moments for her to answer. I was already getting tired of bending on my knees, but I didn't let it show.

"I don't know, they're gone." She said. I sighed inside my mind.

"What's your name?"

"Jamie."

"Alright Jamie, well, I think it'd be best if you weren't out here. It's kinda cold. You should go into one of these tents and sit tight." I didn't exactly know what to tell her, but I couldn't just leave her out here. It wouldn't be right. I tried to run several calculations in my head, but it didn't do any good.

"Can you find them for me?" She asked. Uh oh. A snag. I couldn't tell her no. That was what I wanted to do, but it wasn't right. And if I said yes, then she'd be looking for me to find her people. _Damn. _I looked at her. Her eyes got bigger somehow, and a look of hope spread across her face. _Damnit! _

"Uh, yeah, sure. I can find find them. I used to love being It, back when I was a kid and playing Hide and go seek. I always won. I can find anybody, don't worry." She smiled a little when I mentioned hide and go seek. There was a little truth in that. I was the undisputed champ when it came to being It. But this was nothing like a kids game. I had no idea how I'd find her people. "But first, you gotta get inside. Come on." I held out my hand to help her up off of the ground.

I was relieved to not be bending on my knees anymore. She stayed beside me and we walked together. I found a rather large tent with some people in it and we went inside. There were some other kids in there. I told her that she should go and talk to them and be friends with them. We talked a little more, mainly her asking me questions left and right. Then I said that I had to go so I could look for her parents. She didn't want me to go, but I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. I left and went back to work in the medical tent. I hoped that Jamie didn't notice the dried blood that I had on my hands.

* * *

The stop watch in my mind had upgraded over the past month. It was now also a clock. And that clock said that it'd been a little over an hour since I met Larry Walker.

A lot has happened in that last month. Lt. Jacobs had gotten killed. His group had been surrounded and forced into a last stand. Jacobs blew himself up, along with several Russians. Another thing, bigger than that, had also happened. Colonel Shay was dead. The title of Overlord shifted to a new guy. Shay was killed by an air raid on his HQ. His successor, Colonel Blake Turner, had stepped up to the plate.

We'd pushed the Russians out of D.C. as well. That was a bloody fight, which nearly ended when we almost got bomb dropped by our own planes. And Sandler had taken a hit to the chest. He was okay, though.

Right now though, I was gearing up. A joint patrol was being sent out to search the nearby areas. A mixture of guys from Hunter 2-1 and Hunter 2-4. Me and Roger would be going. There would be 7 of us in total. Our orders were to search for any useful supplies and recon the vicinity of the outpost. Our orders also said that if we found any Russians, we were to engage and destroy. No fire support. No air support. No ground support. Just the seven of us.

* * *

I stuck to the V formation, stepping up onto a large chunk of a building, listening and watching. Windows were busted out, there were bodies here and there, and debris was everywhere. We hadn't found anything so far, and we were a few klicks from the outpost. I was primed and ready to fight, like a seasoned veteran.

The point man held up his fist, and everybody immediately stopped and crouched. He pointed to a four way intersection up ahead, and my attention focused there. Russians. We quietly took cover and kept low, making sure that we weren't detected. Orders. Engage and destroy _any _enemy that we find.

There was a path of abandoned cars, empty ammo crates, and large pieces of debris. Lots of cover to hide behind. I was behind a large ammo crate, watching the enemy troops. There was about 15 of them, patrol size, and an armored vehicle. They were about half a football field away. Our point man was the closest, and he did a few hand signals. We were going to ambush them, using the element of surprise. Open fire after he shoots the first shot. I aimed my SCAR, looking through a red dot sight, and targeted the ones in the back of their formation.

The clock in my head was ticking away. Tick tock. Gun fighting time was here. And I was scared shit less.

The point man was a guy from 2-4 named Mack. I knew that Mack preferred using the M4a1. And he shot his M4a1. The sound of the rifle pierced the quietness. It was a clever shot. His round hit the Russian manning the gun on the armored vehicle, right in the head. Deadly, and impressive. I bet that Roger would have a hard time topping that.

Half a second later, gunfire erupted. We all opened up on the enemy patrol, engaging and destroying like we were ordered to do. I shot at one of them on the far right. The bullets collided and hit him in the shoulders and in the neck. Red blood snapped out of him. Target down.

The Russians began yelling in their language, full aware of the ambush. The armored vehicle stopped and the driver got out, shooting an AK 47 in our direction.

I aimed again, popping off multiple rounds. The red dot sight helped a lot. My aim was much better. I nailed a head shot on my target. His head snapped back and his body twisted. He died before he hit the ground. I knelt back down behind the crate of ammo, as bullets began tagging the other side of it. I could hear them as they passed by.

At first, I thought I should blind fire, but it was too dangerous. You rarely do that. Movies and games tend to say otherwise, though. When you blind fire, you have no idea where your rounds are going. You could end up shooting an ally in the back. You could end up hitting a civilian. You could end up wasting ammo.

"We gotta get aggressive!" Mack yelled from out front. He was right. Fire and maneuver time. There was a small car tossed on its side up ahead. I stood up and ran for it, keeping my head low. I heard and felt the sizzle of bullets as they came close to hitting me. As soon as I got behind it, I fired a few more rounds, then ducked below where it was safe.

Everyone else was moving up, getting closer.

"Thin 'em out! Place your shots!" Mack called out. Precision shooting was slower, but far more accurate. You usually conserve more ammo that way. And your chance of actually hitting a target is increased drastically. But I stayed on precision mode, 24/7. They had more men than us, but they didn't know that. We had them suppressed badly.

I brought the SCAR back up and took aim. They weren't even trying to hit us anymore. They were focused on trying to get our heads down. It wouldn't work. I targeted one of them that was doing this, and fired. Five rounds. They slapped him in the chest, hammering him down and piercing his armor. He stumbled backwards and then fell, going out of sight.

Some of them were using the armored car for cover. I couldn't get a clear shot at them.

"Frag out!" I heard someone yell. A green colored frag grenade arced through the air. It spun in mid air, going high and far. The grenade landed beside the armored vehicle, on the side that faced us. It exploded, a bright flash of yellow fire ignited for a second. The car lifted on its side for a little.

"Everyone, tighten up on me! Let's get down there!" Mack yelled to us. Only a handful of them remained, if that.

We got back into the V formation, and I got into my position. It was a little messier than earlier because we were in the middle of a fight, but the formation was still effective. We moved forward at a quick pace, firing off sporadic shots to keep their heads down. I stepped on the tops of bricks and chunks of destroyed buildings.

The last Russians tried to flee, running for their lives. We gunned them down, tagging them in the back with full metal jacket. They collapsed, dead and unmoving. I took a deep breathe. Area cleared.

A guy from 2-4 radioed in the details of the engagement. He told the outpost our location, how many enemies there were, and what their fighting capabilities were. We all waited for him to finish up, then we continued on the patrol.

* * *

"See if you can find anything in that store." Mack told me. He pointed to a pharmacy across the street. The windows were knocked out and it looked scavenged. But there was a possibility that medical supplies were in there. So I jogged over there.

Shattered glass covered the floor, and it crunched as I stepped inside. There was a slim to none possibility that a Russian was in here. But that possibility was enough to make me clear the store. I went from aisle to aisle, checking corners, and making sure that I didn't find anything unusual. I went to the back of the store, where the medicine and medical stuff was. That pharmacy area had a locked door preventing anyone from getting back there. The lock wasn't broken, which was a good thing and a bad thing. The good part was that nobody took anything, because they couldn't get back there. The bad part was that you simply can't get back there. But I wasn't worried.

I shot the door in two different spots, then I kicked it hard. It opened up with a loud pop, and the door swung open. _Heh, jackpot..._ Then I heard something move, to my left. I instantly raised my SCAR, ready to shoot anything that I saw.

"Anybody there?" I called out. I figured that Russians wouldn't lock themselves into a pharmacy. If they did, well, then they'll just have to contend with me. Which will be very bad for them. Very bad, indeed. I heard more movement, and then I saw a shadow behind an aisle filled with medicine bottles and stuff. Footsteps.

A lady came from around the small aisle, and I relaxed, lowering my rifle.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her. She looked relieved to see me.

"I was hiding. I locked the door so that nobody would get back here. I've been here for hours." She looked tired. I figured that she probably hadn't gotten a lot of sleep, maybe none at all, in the last few days. I know I haven't gotten any. Her hair was like a dark blue color, stopping just above her shoulders. She had a t-shirt on. I looked at her for a few more seconds, and then somebody called out from behind.

"Hey Ramirez! We're leavin', hurry up!" I heard Mack say. Time was running out.

"Yeah, we uh, we have to get out of here. It's not safe here." I told her. She nodded. "I just, uh, have to grab some of this stuff right quick." I hurried as quickly as I could, grabbing stuff from counters and shelves and stuffing them inside a sack that I was carrying. I got as much stuff as I could, then we left the building. Our curfew was coming. We were cutting it close. We had to get back to the outpost.


End file.
